Promise Me
by AkatsukiAshe
Summary: JeanXOliver; "You don't have to worry. I'm going to protect you, okay? No matter what, I love you. Don't forget that Oliver."
1. Promise of Love

"Jean? When will we be able to go outside and play with Mommy and uncle?" A young Oliver asked, giggling when the elder ruffled his golden locks playfully. "I'm sure we'll be able to go outside soon. It's just Papa France is really busy, and doesn't want us to go outside where we can get hurt." Jean responded, "I'm sure we'll be able to go outside again when Mom and Papa finish sorting things out with that British guy." Oliver nodded, grabbing onto the stuffed bear that was handed to him by the elder. "Okay, I will be a patient good boy and wait for them to sort it out like you told me to!" Jean smiled, kissing the younger on the forehead, as he yawned largely. "Alright, now you go to sleep alright, Oliver? I'll make you some pancakes tomorrow." Oliver smiled, "With lots of maple syrup?" Jean giggled, "Of course! As much as you want. As long as you go to sleep and wake up tomorrow."

They were interrupted by a loud bang from downstairs. Oliver yelped clutching his bear tightly, "J-Jean? What was that?" "I don't know. I'm going to go check out what happened—" As he was getting up, he felt a tug on his sleeve. "Don't leave me Jean." Oliver cried as Jean shushed the younger child, "Don't worry Oliver, I'll be back. Just stay here, I need to change out of my clothes anyways. I'll be back." "Promise?" Oliver held out his hand towards the brunette, who held it gently as he leaned over to kiss the younger's forehead. "Of course. I'll only be a minute." Jean left the room, pulling the door closed gently, so as to not make any sound.

'I'll just go check on what's happening.' He thought, 'It's on the way to my room anyways.' He crept quietly down the hallway and down the stairs to the conference room where he knew his Mother and Papa were discussing things over with the British guy. 'If that limey hurts Mom, Papa, or Oliver, I'm going to punch him!' Jean thought as he quietly creaked the door open, peering inside carefully at the events unfolding in front of him.

"So you're saying that I'll have a choice?" He heard his Papa Francis ask the man with the thick eyebrows. "Yes. You can chose between you precious little girls, or Canada. I don't care which one you chose really. Whoever you don't chose, I'll have. You're lucky I'm doing this for you frog. It's just…I owe you for that one time at that party…"

"But Arthur-! Won't you let me keep both? I love all my children equally! I can't bare to separate with either of them!" Jean gasped quietly as the man called Arthur slammed his hands down against the table angrily, "Listen here frog. I've told you once and I'll tell you again. You get only one. I've given you enough time to think about this alright? You had better decide now otherwise I`ll take them all and leave you with nothing!" "Alright! Fine if you want Canada so badly you can just have him! Why do you want Canada so badly anyways? It`s only just miles and miles of useless, frozen wasteland?"

"But Papa-!" Matthew cried as Francis shushed the blonde child. "Well then. I guess that seals the deal then. You can have your daughters. I shall have Matthew and his children then." Arthur smirked, grabbing the blonde`s colony`s arm tightly and dragging him over. Matthew looked sadly over at France, "But, are you sure you want to give us up, Papa?" Francis glared, "I wanted to keep you all. But to tell you the truth, I guess this is a good deal for me. You were getting pretty costly anyways. No one needs furs anymore. And that was all you were good for."

Matthew sobbed quietly, tears running down his face like rain, "Then what did we mean to you? Was all you said to me fake? Did you only want me for the profit? Did you even care about Oliver and Jean? They loved you more than the world!" France frowned, "Listen Canada, I did care about you once upon a time. But there comes a time when every colony has to grow up. It also happened to me many moons ago. You will have to face reality sooner or later." A loud bang interrupted the conversation. Jean had slammed the door open, surprising everyone, including himself. Matthew looked up at his child sadly, "Jean…you…?" Jean glared angrily at his so-called `Papa`, "So then why did you adopt us in the first place? Why…if you didn`t care from the start, why did you pretend? Why would you pretend that you gave a damn?" Francis stared at his ex-child blankly, "Well, you didn`t think I`ve thought it through? I needed to make sure that you would be good, obedient little colonies, and that you wouldn`t go against me, no matter what, and do what I order, without question." Francis laughed, "I wanted you to become the perfect puppet! That would help me even at the cost of your own life! To become perfect-!"

"Damn…how foolish I`ve been…just following you like a puppy…son of a b*tch, did we not mean anything to you!`All the time we spent together…it was all a lie wasn't it?" Jean barked angrily at the man he used to look up to like a hero. "I loved you. I f*cking loved you, you stupid man! Me and Oliver loved in you! We believed in you! We trusted in you! And you f*cking threw it all away…" The room feel silent, save for Jean`s sobbing. Matthew shrugged out of Arthur`s hold to go to hold his child, "Oh Jean…" Jean pushed Matthew`s hand away gently, smiling, before glaring back at Francis, "I want you to leave! Leave now and never show your repulsive face around here ever again! I don`t even want you to save goodbye to Oliver! Just leave and never come back! We`ll do just fine on our own!" Jean stomped out of the room loudly, leaving the rest of the rooms inhabitants stunned. He ran into his room, slamming the door shut and locking it, before falling heavily onto the bed. He was so exhausted from the prior events that he began to drift into darkness as his head hit the pillow.

A knock interrupted his peace. He felt his anger grow as he stomped over to the door, slamming it open, causing the person behind it to fall back. "What the hell do you want?" Jean screamed loudly, scaring the child below him. Jean`s eyes widened in realization as big blue watery eyes widened in fear. "I…I`m sorry for disturbing you, J-Jean. I`ll just…head to bed now..." Little Oliver ran in the opposite direction, crying loudly.

Jean began to feel very guilty, `I shouldn`t have lashed out so quickly…plus, I did say I was going to sleep with him tonight...` "Oh…! I`m such an idiot!" He cursed loudly, before running after the younger child. He continued running down halls, searching worriedly, until a scream broke him out of his trance. "That was…Oliver!" He followed the screams to Francis` room, where he watched as his former guardian held the young child in a choke-hold. "Papa-! That hurts! Please stop it! I can`t…breathe…!" Jean saw red. He went through the bedside drawer knowing that Francis kept a pistol there for safe keeping, and pulled it out, aiming and shooting said Frenchman in the side, startling him as he dropped the young blonde. "Get out Oliver. Listen _Francis, _don`t you dare move or the next one I will not miss."

He glared as he ran out of the room, grabbing Oliver`s hand and pulling him down the hallway roughly, not stopping until they reached his room. He motioned for Oliver to get inside, before closing the door and locking it. He then sighed, placing the newly acquired pistol on a high dresser and taking a seat beside the younger boy on his bed. "What happened to you Oliver? Are you alright?" Oliver nodded, tears still flowing through his eyes like the St. Lawrence, "Papa….he…I couldn`t breathe…I was so scared Jean!" Jean hugged the younger boy, rubbing his back softly to calm him down. "Don`t worry Oliver. You`re safe now. Let`s go to sleep, alright?" Oliver rubbed his eyes, as Jean pulled him down into a lying position. "You don't have to worry. I`m going to protect you okay? No matter what. I love you. Don`t forget that Oliver." Oliver nodded, leaning into Jean`s chest as Jean wrapped his arms around the younger boy. "Goodnight Jean. I love you." Jean smiled, as Oliver was lulled to sleep by the sound of Jean`s heartbeat, "Goodnight Oliver. I love you too."


	2. You lied!

That following morning, Jean felt sick to his stomach. He hadn`t slept a wink since last week`s events, scared to sleep in fear that Francis may come back and try to hurt Oliver again. "Urghh…" Jean groaned, feeling a headache coming. After last week`s events had progressed, the Frenchman was taken to hospital, cursing the little Canadian with colourful swears, to which he had covered Ontario`s ears from. And since then, little Oliver had taken a liking to Jean`s arms. He would never been seen without the boy. Their `mommy`, Matthew, was beginning to get worried. Little Oliver spoke seldom now, the only time he did, he would respond to Jean. Compared to Jean however, Oliver looked fine. Thick bags appeared underneath the boy`s eyes from lack of sleep and constant paranoia. He would not let Oliver more than a metre away from him, and would lose his temper, lashing out at anything in his range. As a result of Matthew`s worry, Arthur decided to take the younger, Oliver, with him back to England along with Matthew. He thought of this as an opportunity to get to know him better. (Jean knew he was secretly trying to see if he could get any profit out of Oliver`s lands) And today was the last day they`d spend together for the next year.

Oh, it`s times like this that he wishes he could stay like this forever. If only time would stop and leave him and Oliver alone like this, forever. "That damn French bastard! I hope his wound gets infected. Serves him right." He growled, causing the body curled up in the crook of his neck to groan. `Damn. I woke him up…` One of the arms tucked into his chest uncurled in discomfort as blonde hair and bright blue eyes peeked out of the crook between his head and chest. "Jean…? Is it morning…?" Jean smiled at the sight—the blonde child looked adorable, though he wouldn`t admit it. "Yeah it is. It`s good you woke up. I was wondering how long you were going to lay there sleeping beauty, I need to go out for a smoke." Ah. Another one of the unfortunate effects from the past week`s events. Little Jean, at the young age of 13, began to adopt terrible habits. "But Jean! Those are not good for you! They`re cancer on a stick! They make your life shorter!" Jean shrugged, "Whatever. It`s not like you're the one doing it. I can do what I want. It`s my life." Oliver frowned, placing one of his hands on his hips, with the other pointing at the other, in an attempt to look frightening. "Now you listen here Jean Tremblay! None of this `it`s my life`. It`s like you don`t care about anything else in the world! What about your life?" Jean sighed, "There`s not really a need for a life anyways. I don`t need anything else as long as you`re there, Oliver. "

Oliver blushed, smacking the brunette against his head playfully, "You dummy. What about me? Did you ever think about what would become of me if you`re gone?" Jean sighed, wrapping his arm around the blonde`s waist and pulling him close, letting his free arm brush curly locks through his fingers. "Look Oliver, all I wish is for you to be healthy and well. You mean the world to me. When you`re happy, I`m happy, alright?" Oliver wrapped his arms around the brunette, hiding his face within the brunette`s nightshirt, "Stupid Jean. How do you think I feel? As long as your with me, I`ll be the happiest ever!" Oliver blushed, lifting his face to give Jean a kiss on the cheek, "Promise to never forget me? Cause I don`t want to forget you, Jean." Jean nodded, "Of course! I`ll never forget anyone as loud as you. There`s just no way…." Jean laughed as Oliver smiled, "You should see your face right now. You look as red as a tomato! It`s so cute! Ha ha!" If it was possible, Oliver blushed an even deeper shade of red, "You idiot! Lets just go downstairs! You promised me a day together! I want to remember this day for the next three years!" Jean smiled, "Of course Oliver. Let`s go now, shall we?" Oliver smiled and nodded as they got up and changed, holding hands as they walked down the hallways.

That was around three years ago.

Oliver was eagerly waiting his return to Canada, where he would see his beloved Jean again. Oh how excited he was! He would run over to Jean and give him the biggest hug ever, and talk for end about his adventures in England with Father! (Matthew had left a year before him due to some matters needing to be taken care of) He laughed as he began to see the port in the distance. "Hey dad! Look, look! We`re here! We`re back in Canada again!" Arthur smiled, "Of course Ollie. Be patient. We`ll be there within the hour." Oliver smiled, "Do you think Jean and Matthew will be waiting for me, dad?"

Arthur laughed, ruffling the now teen`s hair playfully. "Of course lad. I`m pretty sure they`re at the port waiting for you at this moment." Oliver`s excitement began to grow as the boat reached the dock. This however, changed as they grew closer to the shore. Oliver`s excitement began to turn into confusion. `Why was only Mum there? What happened to Jean? Why wasn`t he beside her, waiting for him to come back, like he promised he would? Was he hurt?` Oh, the possibilities that began to go through his head were giving him a headache. He began to fear the worst as Arthur stepped off the boat first to talk to Matthew. "What happened to that brat?" Arthur hissed at Matthew. "He`s back at home. He`s not feeling well…so…" Oliver ignored this and ran over to Matthew, hugging him tightly; a large smile plastered onto his face. "Mummy! Did you miss me? How are you and Jean? I missed you guys so much!" Matthew smiled, smoothing his fingers through his son`s golden locks gently, "I`m fine love, and I`m glad your back." Oliver continued to chat with Matthew as they walked off the platform and onto the ground. "What about Jean Mum? How is he?" Matthew sighed nervously, urging his son into the carriage, "Well love, I suggest we head home. He`s not in the best shape right now, so I wouldn`t approach him when we get home yet, alright?" With that, Matthew and Arthur entered the carriage, and so began the long, quiet ride home.

Oliver had been waiting for this moment for so long-! It had been a long three years, but finally the wait was over. As soon as the door opened, his excitement began to grow. The house was slightly different from when he was last here, he noticed. It had probably been renovated in the time he had been gone. He looked over towards Matthew hopefully, "Mum? May I see Jean now?" Matthew frowned, "I just told you Oliver. Jean isn`t feeling well, so you shouldn`t see him yet." Oliver looked downcast, "But…you said…we`re home now aren`t we?" Matthew shooed him away, "Go to your room and start unpacking Oliver. Dinner will be ready soon, okay? I`ll call you down." Oliver sighed, "Yes mum. But really, can you-?" "Oliver." Matthew interrupted him, "Go start unpacking upstairs." "Fine." He replied angrily, picking up his bags and stomping upstairs to his old room, slamming his door shut.

He searched through his bags for a white plush puppy. It was a precious present given to him my Jean, who had saved up all the coins he had been collecting to buy it for Oliver on his 10th birthday, knowing that Oliver loved animals, and wished to get a pet of his own one day. He hugged it to his chest as the lay on his side on his bed, staring out the window absentmindedly. `I just want to see Jean, is that so hard to ask? We haven`t seen each other in so long. I just want to talk to him again…` He thought, `Why is mum being so difficult? Is he really hurt? Oh god. Maybe he`s seriously hurt!` He shook those thoughts out of his head, `But even if he was, he said so himself before. He said he was eager to see me when I can back…I want to be there to help him through…whatever trouble he`s in.` His thoughts were interrupted by a call from downstairs. "Oliver, love come downstairs! Dinner`s ready love!" Oliver sighed, placing his precious stuffed animal down gently on his bed beside his pillow, before trudging tiredly downstairs for dinner.

"You`ll get to see him soon, don`t you worry love. Just be patient." His mum would repeatedly tell him every time he would ask. Soon days turned into weeks, and it been almost two months that have passed by without any results. He had never failed to ask the same question every day, hoping that his mum would give in and finally let him see Jean. He could tell that Matthew and Arthur were beginning to lose their patience with him, which didn`t bother him any. Though one day, their patience ran a little too short. It was after he had finished his dinner that Oliver decided to ask once again if he could see Jean. "Love…" Matthew began, "…could you stop asking? It`s getting tired having to hear the same thing every day." Oliver lost his patience since he had a stressfully day at school, along with the responses he had received these past few weeks, "Well maybe if you`d just let me see him, then we wouldn`t be having this problem now would we _Matthew_?"

"But Oliver, love-!" Matthew was interrupted as Arthur slammed his arms loudly against the table, "Enough of this nonsense Matthew. Oliver Stanley! How dare you speak to your mum like that! You had better smarten up young man, and I want no more questions about Jean alright? Matthew is stressed enough as it is, he doesn`t need you to add to it." Oliver stood up, "But dad! You promised! You said I could see Jean again when we got back! It`s already been two months, and I have yet to see him!" Arthur sighed, "Yes, well you see, he`s sick…" "I don`t care!" Oliver screamed, knocking over the plates and glasses in front of him to the floor, "You promised dad! You and mum did! You lied to me!" Arthur began to get angry once more, "Now listen here you little brat! You had better listen! Whatever I say in this house goes! If you continue to act that way I won`t have you see him at all!" He walked over to the blonde, grabbing him by the hair, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Arthur—that`s enough you`re going to hurt him-!" Matthew tried to reach Oliver from Arthur, who slapped him back harshly, causing him to fall onto the floor. "Don`t interfere _Matthew_." Oliver struggled as the Brit dragged him to his room, stopping by the living room to pick up a cane. He sat on the bed, bending the boy over his knee before repeatedly connecting it with the boy`s bottom. "Stop it dad! That hurts!" Oliver cried, as Arthur continued his assault. "Listen here. I will not have you disobeying me or Matthew like that ever again, alright? You need another lesson in manners dear boy, you seem to have forgotten your place." Tears began to cascade down Oliver`s red cheeks like a river, "But you_ lied_ to me! I didn`t see him. I want to see him! You told me I could when we got back! You_ promised_! You_ lied_ to me, dad! You _lied_!" Arthur stopped in his punishment, letting the boy off his lap and onto the bed. "I didn`t lie to you. You can`t see him right now because he`s sick, and you might catch whatever he has, which I don`t want to happen to you." Arthur sighed, as Oliver hid his tear-stained face into the pillow, "Now no funny business. I want to you go straight to sleep. You`ve been bad, so tomorrow I want you to help your mum with chores, alright?" Oliver nodded, as Arthur got up and walked out of the room, locking the door on his way out.

Oliver picked up his stuffed puppy, hugging it tightly to his chest, as he breathed in ragged sobs. `Oh Jean. They promised to let me see you. I hope you`re okay, wherever you are. I want to see you again so badly…` He curled into himself, pulling his light blue blankets around him tightly as the wind outside began to howl loudly. A storm was starting off. "I`m so scared Jean…" He began to talk softly to himself, imagining if he were really there, to help him get through the fear, "I`m so cold…I wish you were here…please come back soon okay? I`ll be waiting…" He sobbed quietly, curling more into himself if it were possible, and falling into darkness. Behind the door, Matthew leaned against the door, silent tears falling down his face at the pure agony pouring from the son`s heart. "I`m so sorry…Oliver love…" He apologized as he walked away from him and back to his own room.


	3. Jean?

Oliver was awoken by a loud knock to his door. "Oliver? Are you awake love?" It was Matthew. Oliver groaned, the bed creaking as he sat up and walked over to the door to let Matthew in. Matthew smiled upon seeing his child—hair ruffled and his appearance disheveled, making him look like the little boy Matthew had remembered from a long time ago during the times of _Nouvelle France_. He smiled, ruffling his son's hair playfully and pushing him into the washroom, before going through his son's closet. "Hurry up Ollie! We're going out shopping today! Aren't you excited?" Oliver, already under the shower, couldn't hear his mother over the water, "What did you say mum? I can't hear you!" Matthew giggled, "We're going shopping Ollie! Hurry up!" "Kay mum! I'm done!" He screamed around five minutes later, coming out of the bathroom with a fluffy white towel wrapped snugly around his waist. "Finally!" Matthew picked up a shirt, holding it out in front of Oliver. Oliver stared, "Mum! I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself! I'm old enough!"

Matthew laughed, "Doesn't mean anything. You'll always be my baby. Now, now, let us make haste!" Oliver sighed, complying with Matthew's wishes, knowing he wouldn't be able to get out of it. After Oliver finished changing, Matthew dragged the boy downstairs, and began to put on his jacket and shoes. "Mum? What about breakfast?" Oliver asked, sliding his jacket onto his shoulders. "Well, you kind of missed that. But that's all right. We can eat lunch out. My treat~" Oliver smiled, as he put his shoes on, allowing Matthew to drag him outside. "Come! Let's go!" Matthew smiled, locking the door and opening the car door for Oliver, allowing him to get in. As soon as they got in, Matthew started the car and began to drive out of their lot and down the streets. The car was silent, until Oliver decided to speak up, "So mum…why are we going shopping? Ahh—my hair! Mum, I just washed it!" Matthew giggled removing his right arm from the steering wheel to ruffle his son's hair, his eyes still focused on the road ahead, "We're going shopping for your school stuff dear!"

"…What? But mum! It's still a week away!" "That's alright! The earlier the better! Plus aren't you excited? You'll get to meet all new friends!" Oliver turned his head toward the window, pouting and murmuring, "I don't need any friends. Only Jean." "Hmm, what was that love?" Matthew asked as he parked the car, turning off the engine to pinch his son's cheeks out of his pout. This only made him pout more when they were let go, "I don't need friends as long as Jean's there." Matthew frowned, "Now, now. No more depressing talks. This is supposed to be a day with me Oliver. No Arthur, Alfred or Jean allowed."

They got out of the car, and as they walked together on the sidewalk, Matthew grabbed his son's hand, swaying their arms back and forth, like they used to do when Oliver was a child. "Isn't this fun Oliver? I haven't spent time with just the two of us in a long time!" Oliver blushed, lowering his gaze to the ground as ladies began to giggle at the site. "Mum! That's embarrassing! People are laughing!" The ladies walked up to them, greeting Matthew, "Hello Matthew! Is this you boy? Oh how cute he is! I wish he was more like my son…" Matthew laughed, "Thank you. No matter how old they get, they're always little to you, eh? Oliver love, say thank you to the nice ladies." Oliver turned his head to the side, blushing, "T-Thank you…" The ladies giggled, "How cute!" as they waved goodbye to the pair, and continued on down the street. As soon as they were out of sight, Matthew turned to Oliver, smiling as he intertwined their fingers once again causing the boy to blush, "Now, let's get on with it shall we?" Oliver nodded as they continued on down the street.

As if they couldn't get back to the house fast enough! Oliver carried his shopping bags upstairs, dropping them beside his closet and dropping down onto the bed, exhausted. "Arrghh. As if this couldn't get any better…" Oliver sighed, about to fall into slumber when—"Oliver!" Oliver groaned. As if the whole day of shopping wasn't enough now chores! "What is it mum?" He yelled back. "Come down! Let's go have tea in the garden together!" He murmured words angrily under his breath, before trudging tiredly down the stairs. 'Tea time, always means mum is going to talk to me about something…' Oliver thought.

The only times Matthew ever invited him to tea in the garden was to talk about something. Oliver met Matthew in the kitchen, before following him out the backdoor and into the garden. Matthew placed the tray he was carrying on the table, before taking a seat across from his son. They sat in a covered wooden patio, flowers of all kinds brightly displayed around the garden; a small fountain was placed in the middle of the walkway, featuring an angel spreading out its wings whilst the water continued to spill out of the bowl in its hands. And so, without further ado, Oliver went straight to the point. "So mum…what is it?" Matthew looked to Oliver with a pout in mock hurt, "Oh love, I'm hurt! How you accuse me of so! Can this not just be small talk over tea?" Oliver raised a brow in question. "Okay, okay. Fine, you got me!" Mathew laughed while pouring the tea. "Want some sugar or crème?" Oliver nodded, "Yes please….actually. I'll get my own sugar." Matthew sighed, watching as the younger poured spoons upon spoons of sugar into his tea. "You always did like sweets." Oliver just smiled at this comment, continuing to add two more teaspoons of sugar, before adding in crème.

"So mum?" Matthew sighed, stirring his tea before taking a sip out of his cup. It was silent for the next few minutes, Oliver didn't know if Matthew was thinking of what to say to him, or had already lost his mind from the conversation long ago. His mother tended to do that. A lot. Especially in the beautiful garden they had in the back. He couldn't blame him. Oliver himself as a child would lie in the flower beds with Jean for hours, just staring at the sky. Just then, Matthew decided to break the silence. "I was just wondering Oliver…you've been on edge lately. You seem under stress. I'll just say this straight out. Are you okay?" Oliver looked away from his mom, and towards the flowers, ignoring the question completely. "You know mum, these flowers are so beautiful. I remember playing here with Jean so long ago. We used to love playing here…" Matthew frowned. He knew Oliver was trying to make him feel guilty by bringing all these things up—hoping that he could get his way if he made Matthew guilty enough. "I know, love. I'm the one who taught you to twine flowers into knots, didn't I?"

_That day, while the two were out playing in the flowers, Matthew had come out with snacks, and had noticed them playing around in the flowers (Well, Oliver was. Jean was lying on his back reading a book). He had taken the flowers Oliver wanted to give to Jean, and helped show Oliver to twist the stems to form them into a crown. It had taken a few minutes, but when Oliver was done (Shining in pride at his accomplishment of course), he had run over to Jean, who was sitting at the fountain with a book, and had tip-toed (Jean had to bend over still since he was quite short) to place the crown gently onto the brunette's head. "There!" Oliver would smile, "Now you have a beautiful crown Jean! You look like a prince!" Jean would smile at Oliver, and pick up a white rose, from a stem free of thorns, and place it gently through Oliver's golden locks. "Now you have a tiara….princess." He'd start giggling, causing Oliver to smile largely, "I'll be the princess if you're my prince." Jean would stop laughing at this and stare at him, while Matthew rolled over the floor laughing, causing Jean to glare at the elder._

"Hahaha~ That was so cute Oliver love." Oliver turned away, blushing, "Shut up. I was small and didn't know what I was doing." Matthew smiled, "Sure….I'll believe you." After the laughter died down, the conversation had once again come to a dead end, the two staring awkwardly at each other. "Really Oliver. I'm serious. I've been so worried about you lately. What is wrong with you?" Matthew broke the silence with the same question, causing Oliver to glare. "It's nothing. Really. I'm totally fine mum." "Oliver, love...I'm not joking." Matthew frowned, as Oliver retorted back, "Well I'm not joking either." "Oliver. You listen to me right this instant."

"I am listening _mother_. But you just aren't—"

"Oliver Stanley!" Matthew shouted with authority, causing said boy to flinch away. "Tell me please! I just want to know if there's anything I can do to help—" Matthew was interrupted with an outburst from Oliver, "Help me? Help me? For one, stop isolating me! I'm 14, mother! 14! I think I can make my own decisions for myself." Oliver sighed his eyes starting to water at the edges, "And one thing is bothering me. You won't let me see Jean. Why mom? I know he's not sick, don't give me that bullshit. It's been almost two months, and nothing has happened." Matthew sighed, "I knew it would come to this…" Oliver sat back down into his chair, forcing himself to look at his mother. "So…will you let me see him? Or…at least tell me what's going on?" Matthew got up out of his chair and walked over to his son, reaching out his hand to comfort him. Unfortunately, his hand was slapped away harshly, as Oliver got up, knocking over the chair by accident in an attempt to get away. "I…can't love. I'm sorry."

Oliver felt his eyes turned red in anger, "Why mother? Don't you know I'm going crazy? I was looked forward to this day for _years mother. Years._ I waited okay? I waited patiently like you told me to, every day I was away in England. You don't know how much it hurt me! I wasn't even allowed to send a letter! I was so lonely! Arthur would never let me out with other children unless he was there, which was never!" Oliver screamed, his voice cracking as tears rolled down his cheeks. He continued to cry as Matthew stared at his child in horror. "Arthur…he…I'm sorry love." Matthew once again tried to reach for him, only to be slapped away once again, "I…was so lonely mother." His voice sounded so soft and vulnerable, that it made Matthew want to cry. "I…I…" He ran out of the garden sobbing, leaving Matthew to ponder his thoughts.

A creak from the door interrupted Matthew's thoughts, as he looked up to see Arthur standing in the doorway. "What's wrong Matthew?" Matthew sighed, looking up to Arthur, "It's nothing Arthur. I'm just worried about Oliver." Arthur sighed, "Did he…?" Matthew nodded, causing Arthur to frown. "I'll need to teach that boy a lesson—" "Arthur!" Matthew interrupted, grabbing hold of Arthur's arm as he was attempting to leave. "He's just a child. He's…lonely. Can't we tell him? He's really depressed…" Arthur wrapped his arm around Matthew in a hug, "I'm sorry Matthew, we can't. No matter how depressed he is. Just seeing Jean now would…make things worse. Plus I didn't even tell him anything…" Matthew pulled out of the embrace to look wide-eyed at the blonde, "You didn't tell him…anything? About us? Anything at all?" Arthur nodded. "But-! You isolated him because you…Arthur! He's just a child! He doesn't know anything except to play around and have fun yet! And worst of all, you haven't even told him his responsibilities! The boy is going crazy with depression Arthur! At least let him in on something as small as this!"

"This is not a small bloody matter!" Arthur interrupted loudly, "This is bloody important! If he screws up all the North American colonies I have invested on will go to waste." Matthew frowned, "But when you accepted us you took on the responsibilities of making sure we were healthy. What if he gets sick and then doesn't know what's wrong with him? What will you tell him when you say he can't go to a doctor because his illness is just 'a political dispute' between the people?" Arthur shook his head, "Look Matthew. I'll tell him when the time comes. Just…not now. It's too soon." Matthew sighed, "Alright then. I'll get started on dinner. I'll call you when it's ready." Arthur nodded before going through into the garden to clear his head.

Oliver was bored. He couldn't do anything. Arthur had already come home, but he was too upset to look at the British man after the talk with his mother. He continued to stare out of the window longingly, "If only I could go out…maybe I can sneak out…" His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a sharp metallic click, followed by a deep breath. "Arrghh. A smoker." He disliked the smell of tobacco. It reminded him too much of Jean. He was about to close the window, but his eyes were drawn outside for some strange reason. "Ahh, _Tabarnak! I'm late!"_ The young man cursed as he ran across the street. Oliver's eyes widened at the voice. It sounded so familiar…like…Jean! He looked at the figure running across the street, bright brown hair swaying as the wind caught it. It really was him! And there wasn't anything wrong with him either! He was okay! Oliver ran out of his room, and down the stairs, about to open the door when Matthew, who was on his way to the kitchen, stopped his hand. "Oliver, where are you going? It's already dark." Oliver looked up at Matthew, eyes pleading, "Mum would you pretty please let me go out? Just this once! I promise I'll be back soon!" Matthew frowned, "I can't let you out now, Oliver love. You can go out tomorrow, I promise." Oliver wined, "But I really need to go out right now! Please only for a bit! Come on mum! I never ask for anything…okay well I don't ask for much!" Matthew sighed, only Oliver could make him feel this guilty. "Alright, you can—"

The backdoor closing interrupted him, as Arthur walked over to the two. "Where do you think you're going, Oliver?" Oliver sighed, "Mum said I could go out." "No. You're not allowed to go out Oliver. Matthew, you know better than to let him out when it's this dark out." Oliver frowned, "But mum said I could go out. So I will." He reached his hand out to the knob when Arthur wrapped his hand around the young boy's wrist. "No you're not. I have authority over your mother, and therefore, authority over you. So you had better listen to what I say, Oliver Stanley." Oliver felt his eyes begin to water again. He had been doing a lot of that lately. Then again, under these circumstances… "…why?" He asked softly to Arthur, causing Mathew to flinch. He knew what was coming, he'd seen it happen in the garden just before. "Why? Because I told you not too. It's dark out and—" "Why? I'm not allowed to go outside! I'm not even allowed to make any friends, and most of all, you won't even let me see Jean! It's been two months!" He pulled his arm roughly out of Arthur's hold, his eyes turning red once again with anger, "I know he's not sick. You're just lying to me. What do you want me to do?" He continued to scream at the Brit, each word causing Matthew to flinch. "I can't make friends, I'm not allowed to leave, I'm not even allowed to have a goddamn pet!" "Watch your language!" Arthur growled. "You don't have a right to tell me that, _Arthur. _You're not even here half the time! I know you don't give a damn what happens to me so why don't you just let me be?" Arthur went silent at his outburst, not knowing how to respond to the young teen. Oliver scoffed, waving his hand behind his back to dismiss himself, "Whatever. I'll just go to sleep now. _Alone. Like always._" He growled, slamming his bedroom door shut and locking it when he had gotten upstairs. Matthew sighed, placing his hand on Arthur's shoulder, "I told you so." He headed for the kitchen, opening the cabinet to pick up plates until a crashing sound erupted from the living room, startling him to drop one of the plates he had been holding. "Ahh! Oh wonderful." Matthew sighed. He had been doing that a lot apparently. This family was a lot of work. Another crash interrupted his thoughts. Matthew could feel a headache coming on. "Arthur! That had better not be the Tiffany lamp and that antique vase!"


	4. First Day Of School

The rest of the month passed by quickly for Oliver. After that incident with Arthur, he had not been allowed to go outside. He was exclusively grounded to his room, only allowed to go out for dinner or to go to the washroom. He'd also been given work. How Arthur ever managed to find him work to do on summer break, Oliver will never know, but none-the-less, like the "good child" he was raised to be, he did all of it. Matthew would come up occasionally to try and cheer him up, after all, it was only a week. However, a week of nothing but the companionship of the white walls of his room was very boring for Oliver. He would spend most of the hours of his days alone just sitting at the window, watching longingly as other children would play outside, wishing he himself was out there with them. Then again, he wouldn't have known how to approach them anyways, he had never had any friends before besides Jean, so…

Then he would scoff at the sight angrily before moving over to his desk to draw. He had only the books and the pictures to talk to, thanks to Arthur, and only his imagination for entertainment. He would draw, oh, he would draw. Pictures of beautiful scenery—of lands with mountains and trees, and beasts of all kinds. "One day I'll be able to go out there." He would tell himself, "One day I'll be old enough, and I can see the world like Jean. I just need to get out of this house. It's only till tonight." Oliver sighed, before turning back to the pictures he had drawn from memory. They were spread out across his desk. Pictures of Jean and him as children, and of the happy days spent with Papa, Jean, and Maman. Those were wonderful days, days he spent before Papa Francis, before Arthur, with only Jean and Matthew. Days that they spent outside every day; hunting, picking out berries, and going down to the river to fish, migrating with the animals and…free. "It doesn't matter. Tomorrow I'll go to school and that old man can't stop me from going out."

He smiled. 'Maybe I can see Jean…it is school after all. Only a handful of people can afford to go to school anyways, so it won't be as suffocating…' "Whatever." He said to himself, placing a few of his books into his new bag Matthew had gotten him last week. "I'm so excited for tomorrow. What kind of children will there be? I hope I can make friends…" He thought aloud, before he was interrupted from a call downstairs. "Oliver! Dinner love!" Oliver sighed, placing all his utensils into a pencil case and placing them into his bag along with his sketchbook. He'd just go straight to bed—there was nothing to do after dinner anyways besides staring outside, but since there was no-one out, it was quite boring. "Coming mum!" He called back as he placed the bag on his chair and headed off downstairs.

-Line Break-

"Come on Oliver! You can't hide behind me like that! How are you going to make friends?" Oliver frowned at his mother, hands gripping tightly onto Matthew's arm as he leaned against his shoulder, his bag slung over one of his shoulders. "I don't need friends. People are scary. I'm just fine on my own." He murmured softly. "Don't be silly! You're going to be lonely all in that room by yourself. You'll get over your fear, don't be shy." Matthew laughed, "You're so cute! Like a little boy's first day at school!" Oliver pouted, pushing Matthew away and crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm not a little kid anymore mum! I'm 14!" Matthew smiled, knowing just how to get Oliver riled up, "But you're still cute, I have to admit."

Oliver blushed, "Mum! That's embarrassing!" Matthew smiled, "Well anyways, I've got to get to work now, so why don't you run along and head inside Oliver? Or would you like me to walk you there?" Oliver frowned, "I don't need your help. I'm 14 now. I can take care of myself." Matthew gave him a hug, running his hand through his son's hair as he kissed him gently on the forehead. "Alright then. I hope you have fun on your first day Oliver. Try your best, and be nice. Make some friends. I'll pick you up here at the end of school, okay? Goodbye Oliver." Oliver waved goodbye at his mother, before heading into the school. It wasn't very big, after all, only a handful of children got to go to school, and the ones that did, were taught together within age groups, since there were only a small number of teachers as well. There were only a few classrooms, and it didn't take long for Oliver to find his own. He was placed in a class with older kids, he knew, because he had taken private lessons in England, and therefore, had advanced in classes soon before their time. He entered the room, gently pushing the door open and shyly walking over to the teacher. "Umm…Madame?" He called her, as she turned to face him, he held out his paper to her. She looked it over before turning to him, "Quite young aren't you? I suppose you've taken private lessons? Whatever. I'll introduce you to the others after prayer, alright?"

Oliver nodded, as she turned to the class, she motioned for him to turn and face the class after prayer, his gaze still centred to the ground shyly. "Everyone, I'd like your attention. We have a new student this year. If you could introduce yourself and tell the class about yourself please Oliver. " She smiled, directing the last sentence softly towards Oliver. Oliver lifted his gaze to face the class, "Uhh…Hello. My name's Oliver Stanley. I was living in Canada for as long as I can remember. I studied in England for about three years and I came back to Canada just this summer for good. I hope I can make friends." A few kids in the back snickered as one boy commented, "Vous avez l'air debile!" The teacher glared at the boys in the back, "Vous etre tranquille et etre gentil! Il est nouveau." Once most of the students had quieted down, the teacher had motioned for Oliver to sit at an one of the two empty desks near the window. Oliver took a seat on the empty chair closest to the window. 'Hmm. I guess I'll be alone for now…' He thought, 'Well there goes the idea of making friends with my seat partner.'

"Alright class, why don't we start class—" The door creaked open, Oliver didn't take notice, he was trying to get out his stuff from his bag. "—you're late. Well that's alright, it's the first day back anyhow. We have a new student, now go to your seat." Oliver heard the clicking of the student's shoes as he took out a notebook and a pencil. The student sat down, and Oliver could hear the boy(?) rummage through his bags, growling angrily at something, as he placed a notebook onto his desk. "Ahh…You. New boy." "Yes, do you need anything?" Oliver asked as he turned to face the boy. It was-! Oliver stared wide-eyed at the boy; that voice, those eyes…"Do you mind…if I borrow a pencil, Oliver?"

" …Jean…"

For the first time in years, Oliver was left speechless.

My french is not very good, so please help me by leaving a review and correcting me if I am wrong! :)

Vous avez l'air debile! – You look stupid!

(I think Debile is informal for "stupid". I know Debile is "weak" but I've also seen it used in French class to mean "Stupid" informally…? Correct me if I'm wrong please. )

Vous etre tranquille et etre gentil – You be quiet and be nice

Il est nouveau – He is new.

Desole, this was short since I just came back from work and I'll really tired D:

Leave any comments please! I prefer if you leave them on DA if you have an account, since it is more easily acessable to me!

I hope you enjoy!

.com

Merci Beacoup! :D


	5. I Don't Know You!

"_Ahh…You. New boy." "Yes, do you need anything?" Oliver asked as he turned to face the boy. It was-! Oliver stared wide-eyed at the boy; that voice, those eyes…"Do you mind…if I borrow a pencil, Oliver?" _

" …_Jean…"_

_For the first time in years, Oliver was left speechless._

He stared deeply at the face he'd been desperately searching for. He didn't know what to do, he had so much to say to him all in his head, all the times he so desperately wanted Jean to be there while he still had those memories fresh in his head, he could babble on and on about them now, but for some reason, he could not sound his voice. "Hey, um…are you alright? I just asked if I could borrow a pencil…" Jean sighed, causing Oliver to snap out of his gaze and blush. "I…well….here…" He handed Jean a pencil, the two's gaze still locked, their hands frozen in place as they reached out to the other. "Is there something wrong over there Jean, Oliver?" The teacher called out, snapping the two out of the gaze, Oliver turning away and blushing while Jean turned to face the teacher. "Désolé, I was just asking for a pencil. I didn't mean to interrupt class."

"Hmm. Just make sure it doesn't happen again." The teacher nodded, and continued on with class. A few minutes after the awkward interruption, Oliver decided to try talking to Jean again. "Hey…Jean…?" He called out shyly, causing said boy to blink in confusion before turn to him. "Yes? What do you want?" Oliver blushed once again, causing the boy to raise an eyebrow. "Well, do you have something to say to me or what?" Jean looked angered, confusing Oliver. 'I…upset him? Oh god I didn't mean to, I…' "I'm sorry…I just…." The two fell silent again, Jean turning back to face the board, and leaving Oliver to his thoughts. 'Since when did he become so…cold?' He was barely paying any attention to the teacher now, his mind focused on the entity that was Jean. He watched as Jean gracefully glided his hands over the paper, taking notes down quickly yet messily. It seemed his penmanship wasn't all that great yet. 'Then again, unlike me, he's probably been playing around in the fields, and going outside, and playing with other kids…something I haven't been able to do for a long time…' Oliver sighed, 'Maybe I should actually try to listen to some of the things the teacher notes down…I mean…I'll just talk to him after class…'

And true to his thought, during lunch break, he had put all his books away in his bag like everyone else, before picking it up and following Jean out the doors and outside. He followed Jean over to a well-sized apple tree located at the secluded corner of the school grounds with a little garden of flowers and other vegetables growing nearby. Jean raised a brow as Oliver shyly stood in front of him, blushing slightly. "I…was wondering if I could eat lunch with you, Jean." Jean just looked away, "Do what you want." "Thank you, Jean!" Oliver smiled, sitting beside the brunette, offering him some of his lunch as they ate in what was to Oliver, a comfortable silence. After they had finished eating, Oliver was planning to talk to Jean…there was so much to tell him about his journey! Not only that, there was so much for them to catch up on! Jean himself was already so tall now, and he carried the atmosphere of a prideful young adult, compared to the curious little boy he was before. "Jean!" He interrupted the silence with a giggle, wrapping his arms around Jean's waist in a big hug, like he always used to when they were children. "Jean, I missed you so much, I—!" Oliver yelped as he was pushed away roughly by said brunette, causing him to fall over and scrape his arm one of the roots protruding out of the ground. His cut strung, but it didn't compare to the hurt he felt with the look that Jean had given him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jean asked, looking down to Oliver with a mixed look of surprise and rage. Oliver quickly got up and dusted himself off, "Jean, I'm sorry I was just so happy to see you after so long that I-!" "Don't give me that crap!" Jean yelled, backing away from Oliver, "I don't even know who the hell you are! Why are you following me around, you freak?" Oliver's eyes began to sting, the one person whom he thought of as his world, the one person he was keeping strong for all that time while he was away…was rejecting him? Why? "B-but-! It's me, Jean! Oliver! Don't you remember me? It's only been three years, I've been waiting so long to see you again…!" Oliver stepped up to Jean, who in turn, continued to slowly back away. "Jean! Please, don't push me away!" Oliver cried, tears running down his face, "Please Jean, I've been waiting to see you again for so long! I missed you so much-!" Oliver ran over to Jean, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "Please don't leave me…please!" Jean pushed the other away harshly once again in response, "I…don't know who you are. I don't…know you. You've probably got me mixed up with someone else." Oliver frowned picking himself off the ground to stand in front of Jean, "It's me, Oliver! We've been together for so long, how can you? I'm sure you've just forgotten! It's only been three years, but I still remember you!" Jean sighed his tone of voice calming down a bit as he looked over to the side, "I…really don't know you. I don't think I've ever met you before…" Oliver sniffled, his hand reaching out to Jean's cheek. "But-!" A loud slap shocked Oliver. Jean had just…slapped him. "Ne touchez pas moi, maudit anglais! And don't you ever think of talking to me ever again!" He stared at him hard for another second, before turning away angrily in the other direction, leaving Oliver to his misery.

And that was how the teachers found him at the end of the lunch break, lying so miserably in the secluded corner of the school garden. He wouldn't respond to their questions, worrying them greatly. As a result, they had called Matthew, who decided to pick up Oliver early and take him home.

When Matthew had received the phone call in his office from the school, it had gotten him quite worried. It wasn't a secret to his household that Oliver was having a tough-time staying around the house, plus with the fact that he wasn't allowed to go out or the fact he wasn't allowed to talk make friends in England, making it hard for him to adapt talking to people because of his shyness. Matthew knew that his son was lonely. He had tried his best to be there for him, but he was a busy colony (not that Oliver knew about any of this colony business), and had tried to support him, even enrolling him in school to help him get over his 'people problem'. Because no matter how much he didn't like it, he knew that he wasn't enough for his little boy. His son needed a friend, whom he could talk and complain to about home and play around without a care in the world. Jean…had long ago grown up before his time but Oliver, little sweet, innocent Oliver, was not ready to be introduced to this stuff yet, Matthew knew. He didn't even get to enjoy his childhood, which was filled with secrets and lies. He blamed Arthur for his terrible parenting skills, but he knew the man was trying his best, he was just…going about it the wrong way.

"Jezz…I hope Oliver isn't too bad off…" Matthew sighed as he drove the car in front of the school, about to get out of the car and look for Oliver when a blond mop of hair walked out of the building and ran over to his car, his head low and his bangs covering his face. "Oliver…" He waited as the boy opened the door and sat in his seat. Matthew decided not to ask him any further, waving his thanks to the teachers from his window and driving home. It only took another fifteen minutes until they had reached the house, and after getting out of the car, Matthew pulled out the keys and unlocked the front doors, holding it open to let his son in first. After they had gotten in, Matthew closed the doors, before leading his son into the living room and seating him in a couch, getting out a kettle to boil water for hot chocolate. When it finished boiling, Matthew poured them into mugs, and headed over back to the living room with Oliver. Matthew took a seat beside Oliver placing the hot chocolate onto the small side table in front of the couch, staring at his downcast face sadly. "Oliver…what happened?" Oliver shook his head, refusing to answer his mother. "Oliver…what did I tell you about manners?"

"Look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you…" Oliver murmured quietly. "No murmuring Oliver, I can't hear you—" Matthew paused, a red spot on Oliver's face surprised him, "Ahh! Your face!" He reached out with gentle hands to Oliver's face, using one hand to hold up his chin, and using the other to gently trace the angry red mark, causing Oliver to wince. "Oh my poor baby! That probably hurts a lot! Wait, Momma will get you some ice for that…" Matthew rushed back to the kitchen, going into the icebox and, using a knife, chipped off a small corner, before encasing in cloth and rushing back to the living room. When he got back, he gently held the cloth to Oliver's face, bringing out Oliver's hands to hold onto it. "There. It stings less now, right?" Oliver nodded murmuring, "Thanks mum…" Matthew smiled, ruffling his son's hair gently. He eyed Oliver's puffy red eyes sadly, "Oliver…you were crying…what happened at school earlier?" Oliver looked away, "I…don't want to talk about it." Matthew sighed, "Oliver. We've gone over this…do you need your comfort pillow?" Oliver nodded, 'comfort pillow' was what his mother had named the stuffed animal puppy he had named loup. (LOL sorry I'm not really creative)

"Well, lets just go upstairs then, I guess we could both lie down while you tell me." Oliver nodded, as he and Matthew walked upstairs to his room, placing his bag at his desk before the two lay on Oliver's bed. Matthew, with his back against the headboard, and Oliver snuggled on his mom's chest, hugging little loup. Matthew gently let his fingers run through his son's hair, hugging his son close for comfort. "Go on baby, just let it out…" Oliver nodded against his mother's hold. He didn't know where to begin, "You know, at school, I met Jean today...well, he looked like Jean momma…" Matthew looked slightly shocked, "Jean? …what do you mean by, he 'looked like Jean'?" Oliver nodded, "Well, he looked like Jean, but he said he didn't know me…he said very mean things momma…" Matthew sighed, the only times Oliver ever called him that, would be when he either really wanted something and tried to guilt-trip him(Matthew) into getting it for him(Oliver), or he was depressed and needed comfort and someone to talk to. Matthew knew that he just needed to get it all out, keeping it hurt more anyways. "What did Jean say to you, baby?" Oliver felt his face to water with silent tears, "He…said he didn't know me. He called me a…a freak momma….he said he didn't want me to talk to him…ever…" Oliver began to sob, curling tighter within his mother's chest, as Matthew wrapped his arms around his son, rubbing his hands down his back in an attempt to calm him. "Shh…it's okay honey. I still love you. Your mother will always love you. No matter what I'll always be on your side. Even if the whole world is against you." Oliver looked up, his blue eyes locking gaze with the identical bright blue (?) eyes of his mother, "He hates me momma! What am I going to do? I love Jean, but he doesn't want to talk to me." Matthew shushed his son, "Don't worry. Jean is just stressed, he'll come through in the end. Don't you worry baby, momma is sure that everything will work out in the end. So please trust in me, alright?" Oliver nodded, leaning his head against his mother's shoulder, crying his heart out.

Matthew wished so badly to just take all the pain away from his son. He had suffered so much; he would do anything he could to stop Oliver's pain…but he knew it was not possible. One could not feel another's pain. The most he could do was to help him get through it. But it hurt Matthew to know the pain of his son, and the fact that he could not do anything about it. It couldn't be helped, it was out of his hands; Jean had acted as he had seen fit. "Don't worry about that right now baby, just let it out…" Oliver continued to cry and cry, until he could cry no more, and passed out from exhaustion against Matthew. Matthew kissed his son's forehead gently, "Goodnight Oliver." He smiled sadly, tugging the blanket over them and up to Oliver's shoulders before falling into a deep slumber.

Arthur had arrived home to find them in this dare he say it, -cute- position.


End file.
